Christmas Served Pink

On Thursday, the day before Christmas Eve, I am back at work. WFH. Which is good apart from the fact it’s raining and someone wants the back door open. That is despite the fact they’ve just had a walk.

L was been walking MD in the Lakes without his halti on now when I put it on him this morning he looked quite put out. Maybe he's growing up and he really doesn’t need it any more.

The locksmith arrives again, as pre-arranged, and fits our new letterbox.

Aside from bring back from the Lakes all the presents, a pickled liver and a halti less dog, I also seem to have acquired a sneeze, a cough and a runny nose. So I do one those dreadful LFTs which was negative or faulty obviously. Maybe I've just developed a dog allergy after a whole week with the Lad.

After being certified negative (or faulty) I head off to Asda to shop for my parents. Which is even more horrible than usual given that it’s nearly Christmas. They’d ran out of baskets and trolleys. Everyone was having to queue for them to be returned.

On Christmas Eve I do another LFT which is again negative for Covid/Omicron/cold/flu/dog allergy etc then I finish WFM at 1pm. So many acronyms. We spend the evening in the Organ Grinder which is about as busy as we’ve ever seen it on Christmas Eve.

Daughter does the night shift and then crashes at our place at 7:30am on Christmas Day with tales of rescuing a deer from someone’s kitchen. Which is impressively festive although it didn’t have a red nose.

I do another LFT which is once again negative before we Parkrun at Alvaston. The Lad is a pain, of course, but our time isn’t too bad.

We then visit L’s Mum for a coffee. Sadly her Christmas Day at L’s brother’s has been cancelled due to his wife having Covid but she seems happy enough spending it in front of the TV. Son will also later test positive which will disrupt the rest of his Christmas.

Then we go to my parents' where my brother is also visiting and we exchange presents. My brother will be taking them a meal round later.

I take my Dad out for a pint (or two) in their village at the White Hart where a pint comes with free port.

 

At which point I think it’s wise to hand the car keys over to L and then as we head back home we pass my mate on his bike on his own way back from a Christmas Day pub trip.

We cook another non-standard Christmas Lunch, not that Daughter is surprised at our weirdness any more. We serve a platter of meats and cheeses then prawns with chorizo in red wine with fried potatoes. It was supposed to be scallops but naturally Sainsbury’s didn’t have any.

Daughter exits early on Boxing Day and we take our meals on wheels service to my parents' where we put our leg of lamb on to cook while we head to L’s Mum’s again to take her to the care home to visit L’s Dad for lunch.

Then we head back to my parents to serve lunch and meet my brother there again. At which point their oven fuses all the electrics in the house. We do manage to get the power back on to everything bar the oven which means the lamb will have to be served pink and, after several failed attempts in the microwave, without Yorkshire Puddings.

(Sunday 26^th December)